


The Beast Within

by ForASecondThereWedWon



Series: Bughead Stories [5]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Birthday Smut, Dominant Jughead, F/M, First Time, Movie Theatre, Romance, jughead's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 16:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13861623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForASecondThereWedWon/pseuds/ForASecondThereWedWon
Summary: Originally posted on Fanfiction.net. It's the evening of Jughead's birthday and he's looking forward to his tradition of a double feature at the Bijou. If only Betty hadn't made that "beast within" comment, because now he can't get it out of his head! Rated E for the interpretation of Betty's words at the beginning of the night and again after the house party.





	1. The Double-Feature

I

Betty Cooper had ruined his birthday.

Jughead had been a little thrown when Archie had told him that it would be Betty accompanying him to the Bijou, but he’d mostly gotten over that. Archie’d been his best friend forever, and now that they were sharing the same room, it did feel so comfortable and brotherly that it was getting hard for Jughead to remember how it had been before. Given the bond he and Archie had, Jughead was surprised at how much the idea of going to the movies with Betty _didn’t_ bother him. They’d been spending a lot of time together too and, though Jughead didn’t exactly know everything about Betty or could easily read her the way he did Archie, he found that, when he thought about it, the importance of his relationship with Betty had risen to be just about on par with Archie’s steadfast, reliable presence in Jughead’s life. In short, he was pretty sure Betty was also his best friend.

Ultimately, Jughead was happy to have either of them at the theatre with him for his birthday. Archie would be chill and act like it was just another night hanging out, laughing loudly through the films and staring at Jughead like he was from another planet when he offered some piece of cryptic literary commentary. He didn’t expect Betty to get his birthday tradition in the same way, but he figured her blind devotion to him would more than make up for that. Jughead was just looking forward to being able to put an arm around his girlfriend without their entire circle looking on, analyzing them.

God, it sounded so simple! Why did she have to go and complicate it?

Jughead was sunk into his seat, breathing shallowly, and trying not to drum his fingers where they rested on Betty’s shoulder. Colours flashed before his eyes, music rose and fell, looks were exchanged, and words were spoken, but he heard only those Betty had uttered before the film began. About “the beast within.” Jughead couldn’t see a way to interpret her words that wasn’t sexual—or at least he couldn’t see it right now, sitting next to Betty in the dark near-emptiness of the theatre. But to whom were her words referring?

Jughead looked over at Betty out of the corner of his eye. Her blue eyes were shining in the glow of the screen.

Was Betty secretly longing to dominate him? If so, she must have been keeping these urges carefully supressed under the fairly innocent kisses they’d shared thus far. Or, was she dropping hints, trying to egg him on into the sexual voracity that felt like every teenaged boy’s birthright?

Jughead turned these ideas over and over in his mind for a solid hour of the first film, only returning to proper viewing mentality when Betty reacted to something on screen with a laugh or a jump or by some whispered comment in his direction.

When Betty laid a hand on his thigh and told him she was running out for a minute to use the restroom, Jughead realized they had reached intermission. In her brief absence, Jughead’s gaze alternated between the scrolling credits and the place on his leg where her warm hand had alighted. His palms were sweating.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. There was no way Jughead would be able to get to sleep that night with Betty’s words still in his head. Hell, there was no way he’d be able to get through the next hour and forty-nine minutes.

Jughead saw Betty’s blonde head shine as she made her way back up the row towards him. He pulled himself up in his seat and reached out, grasping the back of the chair in front of him. Betty stopped short and raised an eyebrow.

“What’s up, Juggy?”

Jughead struggled to avoid any expression that screamed _I’ve been trying to work out what you want from me sexually for the last hour and a half_.

He shrugged. “I just wanted to sit with my girlfriend on my birthday and I’m not loving the armrest situation. Don’t get me wrong, very convenient for soft drink placement, but when I’m trying to be close to you, this thing feels like the Berlin Wall.” Jughead banged his fist against the hard barrier.

Betty crossed her arms. “And your proposed solution?”

Jughead’s mouth edged up into a shy smile and he patted his lap.

Betty blinked quickly and looked back and forth, as though Jughead had just done something illegal and she was expecting to see cops pouring in the emergency exit.

“Come on. You’re not going to get in trouble.” He kept his eyes on her as she shifted from foot to foot. “There’s like three other people in here.”

Betty sighed and gave in, not willing to physically push Jughead’s arm aside to get back to her seat. She sat cautiously in his lap.

“Betts, these aren’t the crappy plastic chairs at the multiplex. Make yourself comfortable.”

She smiled at him over her shoulder and scooted further into his lap until her back leaned lightly against his chest. Jughead could feel her heart pounding. Unless it was his heart. He was very aware of the curve of her ass resting over his crotch. He reached forward to take her hand and she leaned into him a little more, relaxing.

The credits of _An American Werewolf in London_ concluded and the projectionist switched over to _Animal House_.

Betty turned her face slightly towards him. “So, how’s the birthday going so far?”

“Perfect. Thank you, Betty.”

He moved to kiss her on the cheek, but she tilted her head so his lips met hers. Betty drew back slightly, looking from his mouth to his eyes, and Jughead brought a hand up to her cheek, pulling her back in. She rested a hand on the outside of his hip and when Jughead pressed his tongue into her mouth and stroked it gently against hers, he felt her grip tighten. When he broke the kiss, they were both panting and her face was hot under his palm.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that to happen.” Betty smiled at him.

“Yeah, it’s not like we’re here seeing _The Notebook_ ,” Jughead joked.

Suddenly, Betty looked anxious. “Do you think I should go back to my seat?”

Jughead lowered his voice and brushed his mouth across her ear. “Don’t you dare.” The hand that had been holding hers on the armrest dropped to rub the denim of her leg. Betty gasped as his hand moved to the halfway point between her knee and her hip, his fingers trailing over to touch the inside of her thigh.

Slowly, Betty leaned forward, rolling her hips back so that her ass nudged Jughead’s groin, then forward, sliding over him again. Jughead tightened his lips as a groan fought to escape. Her movement had been small, but calculated. To the eyes of any patron further up the auditorium who happened to look down at them, Betty would seem to simply be adjusting herself in her seat for comfort. But to Jughead, coming from Betty Cooper, the motion was provocative enough that he felt she was practically giving him a lap dance.

He stilled his hand on her inner thigh and inclined his head to kiss up the side of her neck. Betty repeated the motion with her hips and Jughead’s blood, already pooling in his lap from sitting for so long, shot to fill his dick. The next time she ground against him, striking his stiffening erection, Jughead turned his face into her neck and made a soft choking noise.

His free hand found its way under the edge of Betty’s sweater, touching the bare skin of her hip. It was very warm and Jughead dug his fingers in slightly, holding her to him.

As Jughead’s heart pounded in his chest with every shift of Betty’s hips, he found their careful motions nearly as torturous as sitting stiffly through the first movie of the double-feature. She moved over him in a way that was so sensual, and yet so graceful, that for the first time in his life Jughead could see the appeal of going to a club, if only so he could dance with Betty like this, holding her body against his. When her rubbing got to be too much, he turned her face to his, moving his tongue as freely and persuasively as he would have liked to move his body.

Not much of _Animal House_ was getting through to him, but Jughead would have had to be deaf to miss the beginning of “Shout.” And he would have had to be someone other than who he was not to get the idea he got.

The hand that had been keeping it fairly PG-14 down on Betty’s thigh Jughead now drew back towards himself. His fingers pressed against her, tracing just above the inside seam of her jeans as though following a road on a map. Betty, concentrated on her movements against him, didn’t really react until suddenly, his hand slid right up between her legs, pressing against her. The denim was damp under Jughead’s palm.

Betty jumped a little, bumping Jughead’s dick and causing his abdominal muscles to clench as he drew in a sharp breath through his nose. She jerked her head around to look at him, but Jughead, with as much control as he could manage, said, “Keep your eyes on the screen.”

He pressed his palm against her firmly, rubbing upwards, and Betty reflexively pushed herself against his lap. Jughead bit the inside of his lip. His fingers found the button of her jeans and Betty reached down, squeezing Jughead’s thigh. Jughead stretched his neck forward to look at her face, thinking Betty was signalling that he’d taken things far enough, but he found her eyes were closed and she was smiling.

“Eyes on the screen, Betts,” he whispered to her. Betty shivered against him, but opened her eyes, glancing at him. Jughead smirked at her.

He flicked open the button and yanked the zipper down quickly. Jughead pressed his fingertips to the exposed skin of Betty’s lower abdomen. She pressed back into his lap, her movement causing Jughead’s hand to come in contact with the fabric of her underwear. It felt lacy— _not_ what he would have expected—and Jughead’s erection pulsed with frustration.

Jughead licked his lips, psyching himself up to get to third base, but Betty wasn’t so patient. She grabbed his hand in hers, guiding his fingers far enough under the band of her panties that he knew she wasn’t just teasing him.

He pressed his hand against her, sighing deeply into her hair as his fingers slipped through her wetness. Betty jumped as Jughead rubbed across her clit, so he pushed a little lower then dragged some of her arousal back up, really making her squirm on his lap.

Playing with her clit was making Betty a little too fidgety, so Jughead cupped his hand to shape her and rotated it down until he could feel her soaking entrance. Betty breathed in sharply and tipped her hips forward, making it less of a struggle for Jughead to fight against the tightness of her jeans. She held very still as he maneuvered a finger up inside her, hooking it firmly out of necessity from how they were positioned.

Betty parted her legs in his lap and Jughead slid his finger as far in as it was possible to. When she let out a moan, he knew his reach was just far enough. He pushed the heel of his palm back against her clit and Betty rubbed against his erection. Jughead rocked his hand forward, letting the end of his middle finger push against her g-spot. Betty wriggled her hips, forcing him to rub the area firmly as her wetness streamed down along his finger and onto his hand.

Jughead thrust his hips roughly against her, longing to feel Betty’s tight squeeze on his cock instead of just his finger. He pressed her clit with the heel of his hand in a circular motion, as if he were kneading dough, and felt her thighs begin to tremble.

Jughead was electrified and drove his finger back against her g-spot, stroking firmly and probing millimeter by millimeter to discover the precise spot to give Betty maximum pleasure. She ground steadily against him, riding his hand as though she too were imagining it could be his dick instead. Jughead grasped Betty’s hip beneath her sweater, driving his thrusts concertedly as she pressed her ass into his lap.

All of a sudden, Betty grabbed him by the wrist, working herself against his immobilized hand so that her clit dragged up and down over his palm. Jughead dropped his free hand to grip her inner thigh, feeling even from inches away the heat spreading from her core. Her breath had become ragged and she whined almost as though she were in pain, arching her back as she held Jughead’s wrist for dear life.

Jughead leaned into her, kissing Betty’s neck just below her ear. He felt her climax, clenching her muscles around his finger. What destroyed his restraint was the cry Betty let out as she released. Jughead broke into a smile at the thought of her making that noise while “Shout” was still playing, but couldn’t hold it, his mouth dropping open as he came.

Betty slumped back against Jughead, her legs shaking as the aftereffects of her orgasm played with her nervous system. He drew his hand out gently and felt Betty refastening her jeans as he wiped his finger off on his pant leg. Jughead slung his arm across her lap, holding her to him through the rest of the movie and planting kisses on the side of her face, making her smile.

As their double-feature spun to its end, their handful of fellow movie-goers headed for the exit. Jughead and Betty stayed put until the final credit, then Betty hauled herself to her feet with the assistance of the armrests.

Jughead grinned. “Oh, so _that’s_ what they’re for.”

Betty turned to smile at him and nearly collapsed; her legs were as limp as cooked noodles. Jughead grabbed her by the hips, helping her get her balance.

The lights came on and he looked up at her. Betty’s face was flushed and her lips were red in a way that suggested she’d been biting down on them as she fought to remain silent through his touches. She stepped out of his path, reaching for the jacket she’d left on the back of her original seat.

As she leaned forward, Jughead rose and closed in behind her. When Betty straightened up, Jughead spoke close to her ear.

“What was your favourite part?”

Betty blushed and turned her face to his. “Of the movie?”

“What movie?” He drew his eyebrows together, feigning puzzlement.

She laughed, looking down in embarrassment.

Jughead shrugged, offering no excuse for his blunt question and headed for the aisle. Before he could start down the stairs, Betty grabbed his hand, stopping him. She raised herself on her toes to murmur next to his ear.

“My favourite part was when almost nobody showed up to see it and we had the row to ourselves. I only wish the movies had been longer.” She sighed against his skin and Jughead felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Well, a good way to lengthen the…” He cleared his throat. “…experience would be to not say something so mysterious to me that I’m driven to distraction for the entire first movie.”

Betty stepped around Jughead to look him in the eyes. She was grinning. “It’s not my fault it took you that long to interpret it. I figured an investigator for the _Blue and Gold_ would have quicker powers of deduction.”

She pulled his hand, started them down the stairs towards the exit.

Jughead was still hung up on something and narrowed his eyes at Betty, trying to read her.

“So I did interpret it correctly? You wanted me to unleash my inner beast?” He lowered his voice and raised an eyebrow. “Dominate you?”

Betty’s smile turned seductive. “Are you sure that’s really what happened, Juggy? I felt pretty in control. If you really want to dominate me, you’re going to have to do better than that.” She leaned into him, running a hand up the back of Jughead’s neck into the lower fringe of his hair, and brought her mouth to his.

Jughead groaned and reached for her, but without the safety of the darkness, Betty was reluctant to linger on their kiss and stepped back from him.

“Come on, birthday boy. The night’s still young.” She smiled at him.

He groaned. “Fiiine, but no more double entendres.”

Betty shrugged. “I can’t make any promises.”

They passed under the exit sign and Jughead grinned. Betty turned to him. She smiled at his expression.

“What?”

“That was a hell of a double-feature.”


	2. And Many More

II

She had ruined Jughead’s birthday.

Jughead had been relatively upbeat and playful following the unplanned activities during _Animal House_ that had had Betty on the edge of her seat—literally as well as figuratively. Well, _playful_ might be too strong of a word, but it did seem fitting when compared to Jughead’s typically morosely introspective personality. Betty had developed an irrepressible fondness for her boyfriend’s melancholy but supportive addition to her otherwise steadfast but solitary investigative team of one. Jughead was her cynical Watson. Her sarcastic Sancho Panza. Her Sam Gamgee, if Sam had been the kind of guy who said things like “I’m not being a pessimist, I’m just being realistic, Frodo,” every time they hit a bump in the road to Mount Doom.

Jughead had been the other side of Betty’s coin all along—opposite, but unarguably necessary—but tonight, when she’d found him as eager as she, Betty had begun to hope. To hope that somehow they were connecting in a way that let them see past the stereotypes and easy labels they represented in the eyes of their parents, their teachers, even, disappointingly, their friends. On the way out of the theatre, Jughead had laughed and held her hand and Betty had thought that maybe, finally, she could tell him what she really meant about “the beast within.”

When she called Archie, Betty could have said they wouldn’t be coming over after all. They’d changed their minds. They’d be later, and when they arrived could it just be something small? Instead, she was caught up in her post-orgasm elation and all her plans felt invincible.

Betty felt terrible for had what happened. The party getting out of control put stress not only on Jughead, but on their relationship. Betty’s secret was thrown into the open, naked and vulnerable, for everyone to know. She’d been so disoriented by it that she couldn’t judge which was worse: the shame of being called out as a psychotic slut or the deep cut of betrayal from the words Jughead threw at her about them being on “borrowed time.”

Everything felt wrong until Jughead returned for her. In the quiet of their booth at Pop’s, Betty felt them coming back to each other, though it was painful and caused her to feel more exposed than she had with Jughead’s hand down the front of her jeans. She knew they had finally seen one another with understanding and that, plus the cold of the milkshake glass against the fingernail slices in her palm, soothed Betty. When they kissed, she felt Jughead give and ask forgiveness. When they kissed _again_ , Betty’s heart pounded and her cheeks flushed.

Jughead’s hair was like a pool of dark water, reflecting the diner’s neon glow. In his eyes was a hunger that Betty knew he was letting her see. The sweeping line of his lips tasted like sweet vanilla ice cream. Betty saw a way that Jughead’s birthday could be salvaged, on his own terms. Jughead saw it too, tugging her out of the booth and settling his jacket around her shoulders as they stood at the counter. Betty paid, of course. It _was_ his birthday.

He kept an arm around her all the way back to Archie’s house and Betty could tell how much more at ease Jughead seemed than when they’d walked these same Riverdale streets in the past. The lawn was strewn with party detritus, but the house itself was quiet. Of course, they didn’t go inside; Jughead led Betty to the garage-turned-studio, letting her in ahead of him with a key he extracted from a pocket of the jacket he’d covered her with earlier and flipping on a low light.

Betty stood in the garage somewhat nervous, folding Jughead’s denim jacket with excessive care before leaving it on the back of a chair. She slipped her shoes off and aligned them neatly beneath the chair. Jughead pulled the door shut and met her eyes across the room as he flicked the lock. His stare was heavy, holding Betty in place until she couldn’t feel her legs keeping her up. Jughead smiled gently at her, but shut in this room with him, every look and action somehow came across as a little bit sexier, a little more intentional.

Jughead crossed the room, trailing a hand lightly down Betty’s arm as he went by her. He kicked his shoes off and began pulling blankets, pillows, and sleeping bags out of a cabinet. Betty automatically started helping him lay things out. She tried not to think of anything beyond the task at hand, calming herself by unfolding and straightening each piece of bedding.

Their hands touched as they knelt side by side, unfurling a sleeping bag, causing Betty to look up at Jughead. Something in his expression told Betty he was also attempting to remove all possible future connotation from these sheets, but struggling. Apparently he wasn’t as skilled at denial as Betty was.

Jughead looked at her long enough that Betty started to blush. She put her hands on her thighs and stared down at them. This worked to relax her for about a second before she began to recall the sensation of Jughead’s hands there. Her eyes widened, straining in exasperation at her inability to control her own thoughts, and she whipped her head around to face Jughead.

“So,” Betty shot out, a little brusquely.

Jughead jerked back from her, surprised, and had to catch himself so he didn’t tumble over sideways. Betty grabbed for his arm, laughing.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so loud.”

Jughead raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s fine. I mean, that’s what they designed this room for anyway. It’s totally soundproof.” He gestured around them at the noise-dampening panels on the walls and ceiling. “You can be as loud as you want in here and nobody’ll hear you.” Jughead looked down and smirked to himself, making Betty wonder if he’d realized how his words sounded.

She replied with careful deliberateness. “I guess that’s good since I won’t have the excuse of shouting along to a movie soundtrack this time.”

“Evidently cultivating a life of near-isolation paired with the hobby of actively hunting down a murderer hasn’t done much for my sense of humour.” He looked at her sheepishly. “Was it a terrible thing to do?”

Betty shook her head, smiling. “No, but I can’t say I appreciated the cleverness of it at the time. I was more focused on my sense of touch than hearing. But in retrospect, I am impressed.” She leaned her shoulder into his.

Jughead shrugged and made an unresolved gesture with his hands, not knowing quite how to respond. Betty picked up his conversational slack.

“Have you slept out here before?”

Jughead cleared his throat. “Oh, um, yeah. If Archie had Val over after school, I’d just hang out in here.”

Betty turned to him, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Did she ever stay over?”

“No idea. But I didn’t hear anything if she did.” He laughed.

Betty assessed the pile of blankets they had amassed before them. “Does this room get very cold?”

“What?” Jughead looked at her with a confused expression and she tossed a pillow into his lap. “Oh, no. They’re actually pretty careful about regulating the temperature in here for Archie’s guitars. Obviously Mr. Andrews could have just told Archie not to leave any instruments lying around, but it looks like he wasn’t willing to make that gamble on Archie’s memory skills.”

Betty laughed, but raised her eyebrows at Jughead. “If it’s not going to be cold, why are we laying out all this stuff?”

She watched his fingers dig into the pillow she’d given him. He stared fixedly at it as though he were looking into a deep well.

“Honestly, Betty, I needed to give my hands something to do so I wouldn’t just start trying to take your clothes off.” Jughead looked at Betty nervously out of the corner of his eye, before slowly turning to face her.

Betty was speechless as she mentally weighed the two options that sprang to mind: one, sit still and compose herself until she thought of something reasonable to say, or two, throw herself into Jughead’s arms.

“I am touched by your Jughead-esque sweater, Betts, but I’d rather look at it over…” He made a frame with his fingers, closing one eye and scanning the room like a photographer on location. “…there.” Jughead stopped, having selected a purely random spot, and nodded once. Then he turned to Betty, grasped her around the waist and pulled her to him.

She moaned into his mouth as he quickly pressed his tongue against hers. Jughead embraced her eagerness, pushing himself back onto the blankets in a sitting position. Betty scrambled after him, parting her legs to climb onto Jughead’s lap and straddle him.

As Jughead worked his mouth against hers, Betty felt his hands fall from her waist to the hem of the sweater he had lately praised, tucking his fingers underneath and pulling it up. She sat back, raising her arms as he removed her outer layer.

Jughead gathered the sweater in his hands and aimed at the chair where Betty had set down his jacket. He tossed it.

He looked into her eyes, his smile creeping up on one side. “Now, isn’t that better?”

Betty’s eyelids lowers and she pulled herself forward to bring their hips together. “Much,” she replied, dropping her lips to brush along Jughead’s neck as she slipped her hands up under the hem of his t-shirt and pressed her palms to his skin.

Jughead exhaled in a pant and Betty felt the press of his swelling cock beneath her. She took advantage of having caught him off guard, rubbing herself against him and moving her hands to his shoulders, ready to push off the plaid shirt he wore open over his tee.

Jughead’s hands jumped up to close around her wrists. Betty looked surprised, so he kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

“Not so fast. You said yourself that you got plenty of control back at the Bijou. It’s not your turn anymore, Betts.”

The muscles of Betty’s thighs clenched responsively on either side of Jughead’s hips as she felt the effects of the lust in his voice reverberate at her core.

“I think what I said was that our activities there _could be_ interpreted as me…”

Jughead was shaking his head. “Even if you could linguistically worm your way back through whatever loophole you’re working on, you’d only regret it.”

He released her wrists and Betty draped her arms around the back of his neck, tilting her head playfully. “How do you know that?”

Jughead caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, looking unwaveringly into her eyes. “Because in all the times I’ve imagined bringing you in here with no one to see, hear, or interrupt us, you never told me to stop.”

Betty’s heart leapt and suddenly the world was turning without her on it, as Jughead clasped her tightly against him and laid her back on the blankets. She was so aroused by his words, so ready to be touched, but he withheld it from her. Instead, Jughead kneeled in the space between her parted thighs, shrugging off the plaid shirt Betty had been about to rid him of. He flung it away and grasped the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it up his torso.

Betty could have died right then. She felt like she’d stepped into the fantastic unreality of a men’s cologne ad as Jughead’s body was revealed. She raised herself up on her elbows, irresistibly drawn to the surprisingly muscular physique Jughead had camouflaged with loose-fitting shirts, sweaters, and jackets.

Before she could sit up, however, Jughead’s hand reached for her shoulder, pressing her firmly back to horizontal. Betty’s heart boomed like a Josie and the Pussycats bassline as Jughead let his fingers trail across her white shirt, flipping open the button at her neck.

Unable to keep still, Betty grabbed his arm, pulling Jughead down to kiss her. The soft wave of his hair brushed her forehead as he indulged her for a few passionate moments, then propped himself up on one elbow to continue unbuttoning her shirt with his other hand. Betty could feel the poke of Jughead’s erection as he leaned into her and she rubbed her legs against the outside of his hips while he worked at her buttons, his eyes appearing dark and narrowed in concentration.

Releasing the last button, Jughead smoothed his hand across the skin of Betty’s chest, just below her collarbone, pushing her cotton shirt open. With a shaking hand, Betty guided Jughead’s palm lower, until it was covering her breast. His eyes, trained on her chest, flicked up to meet hers and Betty nudged her hips up to press into his.

He held her stare as he tugged the cup of her bra down, making space to mold his hand around her breast. The warmth of Jughead’s palm on Betty’s already peaked nipple made her thrust her chest into his grasp. He began circling her nipple with his thumb and lowered his head to kiss down her sternum. Jughead’s mouth took over for his fingers, licking across her breast. His shifted onto his opposite elbow—his hips bumping hers as he moved, making him groan softly—pulling down her bra on the other side as well, and squeezing his fingers into the plump skin of her breast.

Betty slid her hands up under Jughead’s arms, stretching around his back to run her fingers down his spine. He bucked against her, then dropped his weight onto her, giving up any pretense of restraint to press their unclothed torsos together. She heard him inhale sharply before finding her mouth with his, kissing her forcefully.

Betty straightened one leg so Jughead could roll onto his side. He gripped the underside of her thigh, draping her bent knee over his hip and maneuvering his upper leg forward until his thigh was pushed right up between Betty’s legs. She rubbed against him, but felt only frictionless constraint thanks to her skin-tight jeans. Betty moved her hand down Jughead’s toned back, running her palm over his ribs before reaching down to undo the button of her jeans.

Again, Jughead’s quick grip came out to stop her. He caught her hand in his and, shaking his head slowly, said, “I’ve got this, Betts.”

Betty extricated her fingers from his, smoothing her hand up to his chest, as she felt the pressure of Jughead’s fingers on the outside of her jeans, working her zipper down.

Jughead was in familiar territory now and slipped his fingers beneath the band of her panties immediately. As his fingers moved lower, Betty’s muscles contracted sharply, remembering his touch from earlier that evening. Jughead pressed her clit under the end of one finger, rubbing roughly, and Betty shook against him, not having expected it.

Suddenly, Jughead withdrew his fingers, bringing both hands to Betty’s hips. He reach under the waist of her jeans to give himself leverage and dragged them slowly and deliberately from her hips, along with her underwear.

Feeling the eagerness that radiated from her boyfriend, Betty deepened their kiss, only to be denied by Jughead, who pressed a hand to her stomach, forcing her onto her back. He got onto his knees, yanking her jeans down her legs and pulling their narrow opening carefully over her ankles. Jughead unfastened his own jeans and Betty could see his erection bowing the front of his boxers.

He stopped there, apparently just trying to make himself more comfortable, and leaned back over Betty. Jughead slipped a hand under her back, letting her up enough that her open shirt hung back towards the blanketed floor. He pushed the fabric from her shoulders, one at a time, and Betty saw him swallow hard as her shirt slipped back to rest in the crooks of her arms. He reached around and unhooked her bra, letting it loop loosely below her breasts.

Gently, Jughead drew Betty up onto her knees towards him, but before she could wrap her arms around his neck, he stood.

Betty followed him with her eyes as her shirtless boyfriend circled around to stand behind her. He looked down at her, smirking, as she openly studied the muscles of his chest and shoulders.

“Keep your eyes forward and trust me, Betty. Like at the theatre.”

There was something in his sly smile that Betty implicitly did _not_ trust and she gazed at him intently, as though she might be able to read his coming actions in his eyes like a crystal ball. Jughead’s smile widened when Betty appeared reluctant to do as he’d asked. Rather than giving in, he stared her down until Betty forced herself to look away, only because she figured otherwise he was never going to touch her and she was getting impatient.

Jughead put a hand on her shoulder as he kneeled down behind her. Betty fought the instinct to lean back into him. His hand traveled up the back of her neck, making Betty shiver, though the room was warm, as he had promised, even with her mostly naked. Jughead worked his fingers under the tight loop of her elastic, intentionally snapping it so that her hair fell from her ponytail, untwisting as it settled to brush above her shoulders. He tunneled his fingers into her hair, making Betty’s scalp tingle pleasantly.

Jughead leaned in close to let his lips touch her ear.

“I love seeing your hair free like this.”

Betty turned to look at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Says the boy who always wears a hat.”

Betty smiled smugly as Jughead’s face withdrew and laughed a second later as he sent his hat sailing over her head to land across the room.

“Does this mean I’m controlling _your_ actions now?”

Jughead’s mouth brushed against the side of her neck.

“Not so fast, Betty.”

Placing his hands on her bare shoulders, Jughead stroked down her upper arms until he reached the sleeves of her shirt. He pushed it the rest of the way off, the straps of her bra coming down with it. Betty saw him toss her shirt carefully off to the side. Her bra flopped into her lap and his hand came around her waist to retrieve it.

Once Betty’s bra was also flung away, Jughead’s hand returned to her lap, pressing between her closed thighs to hold her wet center against his palm. He rubbed briskly at her clit, making Betty cry out, before stretching his fingers down to feel for her opening.

Betty heard him fumbling with his other hand behind her back and tensed as the weight of his extracted cock slanted against her lower back. He pushed himself against her, slowly running his fingertips around her entrance until Betty thought she would go insane.

She couldn’t stop herself. Betty covered Jughead’s hand with her own and forced him to insert the finger he was using to toy with her. She moaned and Jughead nudged his dick against her back reflexively.

Easing off her death grip on his hand, Betty felt Jughead take over, hooking his finger to find her g-spot.

“You gotta learn to give up some of that control, Betts,” Jughead said, moving in even closer so that she could feel his heart pounding as his chest came in contact with her back.

Annoyed, Betty pushed her hips back, pinning Jughead’s erection to his abdomen and grinding against him.

“Well, maybe _you_ should learn not to make me wait,” she said with forced sweetness.

Jughead laughed before he replied—not the reaction Betty was expecting, and she drew her eyebrows together, frowning.

“Ok, Betty. I’m willing to compromise.”

Betty shook her head in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“Fast from here on out.”

Jughead’s finger slipped out of her and he grasped Betty tightly by the hips, one of his hands gooey against her skin. He tugged her hips back towards him, putting her off balance so that Betty was forced to touch her hands to the floor. She heard him shuffling around and looked back over her shoulder to see Jughead standing, shoving his jeans and boxers together down his legs. Betty felt her face heat as she took in Jughead’s nude form. He narrowed his eyes at her, but she could tell he was embarrassed under her stare. Betty didn’t look away though; she figured she was doing enough to play by his rules by remaining on hands and knees.

He pulled off his socks and got back onto his knees behind her.

“Thorough.” Betty let out a laugh, turning to face forward.

Jughead tapped a finger thoughtfully on her back.

“Did you want me to leave them on?” he teased. “If anything had stayed, it would’ve been the hat.”

“So why don’t you—”

“Sorry, Betts. Gotta keep our pace up.”

Betty jumped as she felt Jughead aligning the head of his cock with her entrance. She had only felt his hand there twice—both that same day—but her pulse pounded instinctively between her legs, telling Betty her body knew how to anticipate something her sharp mind didn’t.

Jughead’s hand rested on her lower back as he eased himself inside. His palm was damp. Betty breathed deeply, relaxing her muscles as much as she could. Even so, she heard Jughead’s breath catch as he pressed into her and he smoothed his hand up and down her back as though calming himself with the repetitive motion. His other hand took a different tactic, clenching around her hip, anchoring them together as, suddenly, Jughead surged forward, pushing all the way in.

Betty shuffled her knees further apart, allowing Jughead to move forward and stabilize his position. As she shifted, the muscles holding Jughead’s erection clenched and the two of them moaned in unison. The low noise Jughead made caused Betty’s arousal to leap, sending more liquid to coat his cock as he began gently rocking forward and back.

Her wetness and Jughead’s measured movements gave Betty plenty of time to adjust—enough that when Jughead suddenly pulled himself most of the way out and plunged back in, Betty could only gasp at the pleasure and pant out, “Juggy!”

He obviously enjoyed his new pace and more forceful thrusts because after that, Jughead didn’t deviate from driving into her with a snap of his hips each time. Clearly in his element dominating the action, Jughead maintained a firm grasp of her hip, until his curiosity and fully awakened sex drive led him to bring his hand back between Betty legs and wet her clit with the overflow of her arousal.

What might have been an awkward or embarrassing first encounter for Betty was instead freeing and immersive; without Jughead’s serious gaze assessing her every reaction, Betty shoved her hips back against his eagerly and made no attempt to muffle the cries she emitted as a result. With her hair swinging forward over her shoulders, her eyes squeezed shut in primal appreciate of Jughead’s efforts, and noises she’d never made—even when alone—spilling from her mouth, Betty truly felt she was channeling “the beast within.”

Panting roughly, Jughead pulled out of her, reaching for Betty and guiding her down onto her back now. Betty felt suddenly exposed, but one look into his face told her Jughead was still in a more instinctual frame of mind. His eyes were hot as they stared down at her and he moved to position himself again between her legs, jerking inside to Betty’s encouraging body language. Jughead’s mouth found her neck and he worked at bruising it enough to keep Betty in collared shirts for at least a week.

When he bit down, Betty brought her legs up on either side of his hips. Jughead moved his elbows in closer to Betty for balance as he pounded into her more forcefully, pinning her arms to her sides in a way she could tell was intentional by the lazy smirk on his face when Jughead lifted his head from her neck.

Reading the vexation plain in Betty’s expression, Jughead decided to torture her. He slowed his thrusts so that he could change the angle of his hips, rubbing his rough, dark hair across her clit with every forward pulse.

Betty’s legs quivered uncontrollably and she dug her nails into the blanket she lay on to save her already scored palms. Jughead kept smiling, but bit his lip in concentration as he made sure he was pressing her clit before jerking sharply back and forth, stimulating her inside and out.

Betty pounded her fists into the unresisting plushness of their impromptu bed and cried out in a mix of pleasure and crushing frustration until Jughead, shocked, freed her arms. She slung them around his neck, pulling his mouth down to her and pushing inside with her tongue. Betty felt his cock twitch in response and lifted her feet off the ground, wrapping her legs around Jughead’s hips.

He pressed his lips roughly to hers, working against her mouth until Betty tipped her head back, panting. Jughead kissed down her throat, taking just enough care not to bang the top of his head into her jaw when he drove up into her. He wound his arm under her neck, propping her up, and slid the other down over her breasts, pausing to pluck at her nipples. Betty ground against him when his hips met hers to show her gratitude.

Jughead smoothed his hand over Betty’s ribcage, slipping around the side to trace the curve of her waist. An appreciative hum next to her ear was all Jughead could manage, his firm, hungry strokes taking the breath from both of them.

His palm slid over the fullness of her hip and up the underside of her thigh, where Jughead dug his fingers into her skin. Betty gasped and bucked against him, but Jughead shushed her.

“Nobody’ll see the marks here, Betts.” He shifted to hold his face just above hers, their noses rubbing as he drilled into her. “Nobody’ll know but me.”

Her face already hot with arousal, Betty felt her cheeks flush further as she saw the blatant lust in Jughead’s eyes at the thought of leaving this secret, temporary mark on her body.

The idea seemed to spur him on and Jughead squeezed her thigh, lengthening his strokes. Betty’s shallow panting became a steady gasping noise that fuzzed her ears as Jughead’s nudges against her clit fuzzed her nerves.

As Betty’s arousal climbed and Jughead’s cock stroked her g-spot more persuasively with each pass, her legs clenched around his hips. The next moment, her muscles seemed to lock of their own accord and Betty arched up against Jughead, crying out so wildly she wouldn’t have known it was she who made the sound if she hadn’t felt it escape from her own throat.

His hands moved from her leg and neck, both fumbling to grip her shoulders from underneath. His eyes clamped shut, but Jughead pressed the side of his face to Betty’s, groaning and panting out “Betty… uh… Betts!” as he climaxed.

He shook against her, tentatively opening his eyes. He blinked hard and took a deep breath, easing out of Betty and rolling onto his side. Jughead pulled her over with him and the overwhelmed tears that had pooled in Betty’s eyes poured out and slipped across her face. Jughead smiled at her and kissed her firmly on the forehead, then let out an exhaustive sigh, dropping onto his back.

Betty couldn’t keep the smile from her face, snuggling in close to Jughead as he wrapped an arm around her. She slipped her arm over him, feeling her way across his chest to cup his far shoulder.

He smirked back at her, the way he did when he knew Betty was about to tell him something good.

“What?”

“It’s my turn next time.”

“Oh come on!” he yelled, making Betty laugh. “It’s still my birthday!”

Betty rolled her eyes. “It’s way past midnight, Juggy.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “It’s my birthday until one of us looks at the time and can confirm it to be otherwise.”

Betty started to roll away from him, but Jughead pulled her back.

“Not yet.” His blue-green eyes looked into hers earnestly.

“Ok,” she said.

In a while, Jughead kicked at the top blanket enough that they could get under it without him having to actually use his hands. When Betty laughed at his laziness, Jughead frowned and replied that it was his day off. She settled in against him, the warmth of his body pulling her quickly into short lapses of sleep. Whenever she awoke, Jughead was looking at the ceiling with a smile on his face. Sometimes, she kept still, listening to his breathing in their soundproofed sanctuary. Once, he had rolled over to face her and Betty could feel the light touch of his fingers running through her hair. He whispered against her temple that he loved her, and Betty’s heart squeezed with emotion.

Eventually, she woke up to find him asleep, his wide lips parted and his arm stretched out sideways. Betty slipped away from him, pulling on her clothes. Jughead groaned and rolled towards her, catching Betty around the hips as she laced her shoes.

“Still my birthday,” he mumbled against her back.

“Ok, Juggy,” she said gently. “But I have to go home now.”

Jughead sighed, slumping against her, but kicked the blanket back and sat up. Naturally, Betty looked over at him, Jughead’s toned muscles and narrow hips more visible now that the sky was edging towards dawn. He raised an eyebrow when he caught her looking.

“Voyeur,” he accused.

“Only on the nights you leave the blind up when you’re changing.”

Jughead put on a shocked expression. “You wouldn’t.”

“I went through a real bird-watching phase when I was a kid. Got a great pair of binoculars for Christmas one year.” Betty winked at him.

Jughead shook his head at her as Betty got to her feet. “Shocking.”

She laughed and reached out a hand to him. “Come on, Juggy. You can walk me home.”

He settled his jacket back on Betty’s shoulders, wrapping a sleeping bag around his own. Outside, it trailed the ground behind him, leaving a path in the frost.

Jughead took her as far as the foot of the ladder leading up to her window. Betty stepped onto the first wrung then spun around, locking her hands behind Jughead’s neck and kissing him deeply.

When she pulled back, Jughead’s hot sigh steamed the cold air.

“Happy Birthday, Juggy.”

“And many more.” He looked at her suggestively and Betty knew he didn’t mean birthdays.

She ascended the ladder, stumbling into her room on shaky legs, then turned to look out the window as Jughead made his way back across the street.

“Jughead!” she hissed, her voice echoing in the early morning stillness.

He turned, tilting his head up in the direction of her window.

“What?” he hissed back.

“I love you!”

Betty could see the smile spread across Jughead’s face.

“What?”

She rolled her eyes, knowing full well that he had heard her. “Oh come on!” she hissed.

“What?” Betty could see his shoulders shaking the sleeping bag as he laughed. “I can’t hear you. Tell me tomorrow!”

She nodded, smiling, and Jughead headed back towards the Andrews’ place.

* * *

 Jughead took his time packing all of the bedding away, breathing in the scent Betty’s body had left behind. Then he entered through the back door of the house, trying to be quiet since he knew Archie would probably be suffering through last night’s beverage choices this morning. Well, he’d be quiet until he’d enjoyed a cup of coffee, then he might pound up the stairs and bang a couple of frying pans together over Archie’s head. Just for the hell of it. Just as a little birthday present to himself.

Jughead settled into a comfortable chair in the front room, smiling over his mug of coffee and thinking about birthday presents. Nothing was going to top Betty’s. His heart raced, thinking about her curled up in bed just across the street. He couldn’t wait to hold her close to him again.

Jughead let his mind drift, settling into an unusual bubble of total happiness. It wasn’t until Veronica reached the bottom of the stairs that the sound of her descending feet signified anything in Jughead’s mind. They exchanged a few uncomfortable sentences before Veronica made a break for it.

On a normal day, this encounter may have bothered Jughead, but at dawn, following his most enjoyable birthday ever, he just sighed and internally thanked Archie for his newfound musical obsession, Mr. Andrews for doing such a bang-up job with the soundproofing, and Betty Cooper for showing him the beast within.


End file.
